Joy is so fleeting my friend.Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Lol.
mofaha ┐( ˘_˘)┌ ʅ(́◡◝)ʃ,
Wed 20 Nov 2013, 3:15,
archived)
I don't recall there being a "LOL" anywhere in the Scottish play?
(
Jabberwoc misses D.R. and Quinch,
Wed 20 Nov 2013, 18:53,
archived)